I’ve never been to a fly tying demonstration, let alone sat in on one. In fact, I’ve never had any classes or lessons on fly tying. When I first started fly fishing, my fishing buddy Chris was taking some tying classes. I watched him tie flies a couple of times.
About two years later my mom bought a used vise and a couple of tools from a workmate of mine. My sister picked up Poul Jorgensen’s book on tying flies: Poul Jorgensen’s Book of Fly Tying: A Guide to Flies for All Game Fish. So I’ve had the same vise and equipment for 20 years now. I’ve mentioned before that I’m a utilitarian tier only—it comes in handy to make what I want the fly to look. There is no beauty whatsoever in my flies.
Anyhow, because of this background, I was nervous to tie in front of people. I thought the four of us would tie flies at the same time, and people would wander around and look at the flies over our shoulder and ask questions if they were interested. But NOOOOO… that’s not the way it works! We each took a turn announcing the fly and then talking through the entire process as everybody looked on. Then we handed our flies out to the audience so they could look at them. <gulp!>
Apparently I wasn’t thinking too clearly, because I should have taken some shots of the material we used. Vic (one of the owners of RoundRocks) received some fur/hair from a friend who had been on a safari in Africa. (Just another layer of nervousness—tying with unknown materials.) We had wildebeest, zebra and springbok. Bob brought a patch of klipspringer (labeled “cliff springer” on the back).
There were four of us: Chris Thomas (Utah’s Trout Unlimited president), Bob Trowbridge (introduced above), Dan Line (my fishing nemesis buddy) and myself.
Chris tied a fun little golf tee popper/salmonfly thingy (can’t remember the name—if anyone out there knows, let me know). He used the wildebeest hair for a spent wing look to the salmonfly golf tee, much like y struggling salmonfly concept, but I’m sure it floats much better.
Bob tied a compara dun using springbok hair. The hair is quite luxurious in feel and Bob said it was difficult to tie with because it was so slick. His other fly was an “elk” hair caddis made from the klipspringer. The klipspringer fur was excellent stuff. It’s hollow like deer, but more fine (closer to elk) and has some nice coloring.
Dan tied one of his favorite patterns, the beetle. He also tied up a cdc double midge that he first tied on one of our trips to Idaho a year or so ago. I drove and he clamped his vise on to the door arm rest and played with the pattern.
I whipped up (okay, not so much whipped, more like trembled up) a sprout midge. I figured that it was small enough and the folks were sitting far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to see me choke. I used some white zebra hair for the tail and some white wildebeest for a post to tie on the parachute. It would have been nice to have some bird feathers from Africa too, but I just used some white hackle.
I also went ahead and tied my struggling salmonfly, even though Chris tied the same kind of thing with a much more interesting golf tee. I used the wildebeest hair for both the tail and the outspread wings. The hair is actually perfect as far as stiffness goes. I’ve been looking for the right material that is stiff, but doesn’t buckle and bend back. I’ve been using antron-type stuff. I’ve also tried elk hair, but it buckles next to the body. The wildebeest is quite stiff, which is good for keeping the wings out, but it bulked up where I was tying it into the body. I’ll have to mess with it some more and see if I can fix that.
All-in-all, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, it was pretty enjoyable. My tying didn’t improve, and I’m not ready for the big time, but I would do it again for a local cause.
On a side note, I took my fly tying box with me. About seven years ago I talked my wife into letting me buy some woodworking tools (the deal was that if I bought the tools, I’d make the kitchen cabinets for the house we were rebuilding—in case you’re wondering, yes, I followed through on my end of the bargain). I built a small shop behind our house on the site of an old shed/chicken coop.
When I was tearing down the old shed, there was a large shelf/ledge thingy. It was made from some old growth tongue-and-groove fir. I think it was flooring originally. I cut the tongues and grooves off, planed and jointered (jointed?) the wood. I wasn’t sure what to do with it because it was such narrow strip by the time the tongues and grooves were removed (about 3″ wide).
I saw some boxes I liked in catalogs, but I didn’t have any plans. So I drew some up and came up with this:
You’ll notice in the above picture the light colored streaks on the front. Fir is very brittle and there were a couple of chips that I tried filling (not so good matching the color).







Nice to know someone approaches fly tying with the same sensibilities as me.
DSFlyman, Thanks for the support! With the plethora of fly tying sites, and so many people tying, there seem to be a lot of good tiers out there. When I meet someone on the water and the few times I’m catching fish and they aren’t, and they ask what I’m using, I usually can’t tell them the pattern, I have to show them. Which can be embarrassing. “Lot’s of fish have already been eating this fly,” I say (a good excuse for the crappy tie job). So what you’re seeing is the basic concept. Yours will look better,” I reassure them.
Scott, there are a whole lot more of us out there that are like you than you can imagine. I have been tying for about 5 years and my flies look like crap compared to most of these guys. But the key is-do they catch fish? That’s what counts. The fish don’t care how “pretty” the fly is.Myself, I have real difficulty tying anything much smaller than #16, can’t tie a parachute style that looks looks like they should, upright wings never look quite right, and spinning deer hair for bass bugs-forget it!But I keep on trying. As KBarton told me, my mistake was not in learning to fly fish, it was in trying to learn to tie flies!
Hi Harry! It’s good to know you’re alive and kicking (typing at least). One of my problems with tying is that so many of the flies around here are small, so many of my flies are #18 and smaller. My eyesight up close is OK, so that part of tying isn’t an issue (once I cast those buggers on the water 20 or more feet away, then I’m toast – if my casting wasn’t so bad and I didn’t lose so many flies, I wouldn’t have to tie at all
). Speaking of which, good thing I can’t make my own golf balls – I might golf more frequently (which I can’t afford) – the green fees usually run about half the price of the cost of the golf balls I lose.
Agreed, the ugly flies still catch the fish.
Anyhow, thanks for commiserating!
I am proud of you, Scott. Tying in front of a crowd can be daunting. Tying with unfamiliar materials only makes things more difficult. Harry is right. The fish don’t care how well the fly is tied. Just remember the old adage: The professional fly tier – one that ties commercially – ties flies to catch fishermen. The rest of us simply tie flies to catch fish!
Hey Granny! Thanks for the words of wisdom – they’re especially good coming from someone who was/is a professional tier. Now that I know what to expect, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again for a small venue like that.
Take care!
I’ve done a few public demos in my day and I can tell you, at least from my experience, you always get nervous. Kind of like public speaking, I think.You mean to tell me my catch rate could have been better all these years if I didn’t worry about how purdy my flies are? I knew I was doing something wrong. I’ll work on it. Now, when it comes to writing, I think our rolls may be reversed. Your perfect polished prose and my ugly spewings. That’s where I nedd the support! Heehee.
Au contraire, Robert, your prose is great. Loved the “Alone” piece!
Purdy flies catch them too (at least that’s what I’m told – I don’t know from personal experience). Please, don’t “work” on anything with those purdy flies, we need a touchstone to compare our garish attempts against. Something to aspire to. Another reason for us mere mortals to feel like crap. Keep it up, we need
humiliatinghumility.Nice article Scott! Nemesis? Lemon donut for you next trip!
(My be place OR (My being placed ?
Ouch, lemon donuts – you know how to give paybacks!
Thanks for catching the error. I fixed it.
Ah yes I am certainly a member of the scraggy, nondescript, doesn’t look like that in the photo, fly tying club. I have had a thing for feather-wing streamers for a while now, married wings and all, but though I go through bursts of creative zeal I still can’t get one to look at all like it is meant to. Come to think of it, though I espouse an impressionistic fly tying ethos I wonder whether, if I could tie well, I would be a frothing at the mouth defender of the super-realistic hatch matching imitations I would be creating all the while peering down my nose at the generalist scraps of fur and feather I might once have been happy with.All that aside hats off to you for getting up on stage and letting it all hang out (as it were). Oh and “cliff springer”?! – excellent.
Eccles, Glad the post finally worked. Yes, funny how those of us with less than tip-top tying skills squat in the “impressionistic” camp. But geez, what else are we to do when we see the silly buggers take our butt-ugly flies? We have no choice but to align ourselves thus.
I actually tried to keep it all tucked in – did I miss something in one of the pictures?